


You don't have to sing it right

by ladyofrosefire



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: 5+1, Communication, Cunnilingus, Don't copy to another site, F/F, First Time, Hair Washing, Kissing, Vulnerability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:35:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22499986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofrosefire/pseuds/ladyofrosefire
Summary: Little by little, Beau gets comfortable with letting Jester closer.
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett
Comments: 54
Kudos: 357





	You don't have to sing it right

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to NotAFicWriter and Sparxwrites for beta reading!
> 
> Title from "to noise making" by Hozier.

**1.**

Beau and Jester lie in the inn’s too-narrow bed and kiss. Their legs tangle, and their bodies press together, all Jester’s softness and her solid muscle up against Beau’s wiry frame. Her mouth is soft and sweet, and she smiles between kisses, and Beau wants to _scream_. She wants to roll Jester onto her back and grind up against her leg until they both come. Or to sink down between her thighs…

Jester draws back, and Beau blinks at her, stomach twisting into a hard knot. “Did you read books about girls in love when you—or ever? before?” She catches her full lower lip with her canine.

“Oh.” Beau blinks. “I mean, sometimes? Once or twice, I was… you know, I had people I was running with. I was doing things.”

“Crimes?” Jester waggles her eyebrows. “You were doing crimes?”

“Yeah.” Her mouth twists, and she looks away, down.

The scratch of nails against her scalp sends shivers down Beau’s spine. She closes her eyes and leans into it, and Jester sighs. And that’s warm and soft, too.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Beau looks up, and Jester smiles back at her and keeps running her fingers through her hair. “You don’t have to. But you can, if you want. I can listen.”

Beau draws a deep breath, caught by the deep blue of Jester’s eyes and the warmth of them. It feels like an arrow through the chest. There’s so little that she hasn’t told Jester already, and there’s no reason to worry about this feeling of being speared through and opened up. She still wants to hide her face, or run, or just go back to kissing and make Jester come so that she forgets about whatever face she’d made to get Jester to ask her that in the first place.

She doesn’t. But she doesn’t want to talk about it, either.

With a sigh, Beau rests her head on Jester’s shoulder. “We should find a book with just women. I, uh, read one once, when I was, like, fifteen? About a wizard and a paladin going after a dragon.”

“Ooh!”

“Yeah, it was…It was the first time I saw a book about—” she swallows, “about people like me. And they were both _really_ hot, so.”

“I’d love to read it if we ever find another copy,” Jester replies. Her tail loops around Beau’s calf. “So no _big_ spoilers, but I wanna hear more about it.”

“Okay… so…”

**2.**

“Beau…” Jester’s voice takes on that wheedling whine, the one that means Beau’s in trouble. Not that Jester’s mad at her, but that there is going to be an intervention in the next minute if she doesn’t do something first. “Beau, not that you working out isn’t, like, _super_ attractive, but I didn’t know you kept going this _long_.”

Beau slumps back to the stomped-down patch of grass she claimed for her morning workout, hands laced behind her head. She has that warm ache all through her limbs. It’s a bit like coming down from a particularly athletic fuck, except without the orgasm. But she’s full of endorphins, and Jester is very, very cute.

“What’d you have in mind?” she asks. Then she braces her feet on the ground and pushes her hips upwards with her weight on her shoulders until she forms a bridge with her body.

“Breakfast. Or drawing you. Or… I don’t know.” She yawns. “Do you get up this early all the time?”

“I mean, usually.” Beau comes down, inhales, and then pushes up again. “It’s okay if you don’t want to get up with me again.”

That gets an expansive sigh, Jester’s bangs ruffling as she blows air upwards and shifts where she sits. “But I like hanging out with you. You’re my favorite. And, you know. I want to be involved.”

“I mean, I don’t need you to be.” Jester’s face falls, and Beau hurries on. “I mean, I’m happy just having you here. But if you want to be helpful, you could hold my feet down while I do situps. Keep count for me.” She winks.

Jester shuffles over, holding her skirt out of the way to keep it from getting grass-stained.

Then she plants her hands on Beau’s ankles and holds on. Her grip is firm, and her hands cool. The end of her tail waves back and forth, passing in and out of sight behind her head.

Beau has an idea. It’s corny to the point of being honestly kind of stupid if it weren’t exactly the sort of thing Jester goes for. She sits up, the ache in her abs flaring, and kisses Jester, missing her upper lip by about a quarter of an inch. The next time, Jester leans in to meet her. It’s just a peck on the lips, Jester’s smiling mouth brushing hers before Beau lies down again.

“One..” Jester counts.

Beau’s eyebrows go up. “Do I get one every time?”

“Uh-huh.”

She ends up doing way too many situps and whining into her horse’s neck for the first hour of their morning’s ride, and it’s completely worth it.

**3.**

They get the hot tub to themselves one day when the others are out getting supplies and exploring Rosohna. Beau lights the lamps along the walls and thinks about romance novels and wonders whether she maybe shouldn’t go and find a bunch of flowers to scatter around everywhere.

The door opens, and Jester rushes in, already undressed to her bra and shorts, holding a blue glass bottle in both hands. “I’ve got bubble bath!”

“Hell yeah!”

They climb into the hot water, their clothes littering the ground around the pool. Beau looks, because—of course. And she hopes Jester is watching, too. She leans against the edge of the tub, arms stretched out, flexes, tips her head, and waits. And Jester turns her head and smiles. Then she upends most of the bottle of bubble bath into the water. The smell of orange and cinnamon floats into the air on the steam. She’s going to smell like Jester after she gets out of this bath.

 _Fuck_ , she’s a mess.

Her breath catches on the way in, almost choking her. Which is _stupid._ She’s kissed Jester, she’s started makeout sessions before. It’s just that they've never been naked together while they were doing that. She clears her throat and gathers her nerve to lean in.

Jester waves a hand, and the water in the hot tub begins to roil. Bubbles build, a few at first, and then cloudy waves of them, and then enough that Beau has to bat them away so that she doesn’t lose sight of Jester’s grinning face.

“Okay! Okay, that’s enough!” The bubbles mount a foot tall, tickling Beau’s skin as she pushes herself higher in the water. “Wow.”

Jester blows bubbles away from her face. “Pretty good, right?”

When Beau leans in to kiss her, she gets a face full of orange-scented froth and has to pull back sputtering.

“You’ve got a bubble mustache.”

Beau scrubs at her face, scrunching her eyes shut. A moment later, warm hands cradle her cheeks, wiping at her lower lip and over one cheekbone. Beau keeps her eyes closed until Jester lowers her hands again and hopes the flush on her cheeks looks like it only comes from the heat.

“Hey—hey, Beau. Check it out.” Jester scoops up a double handful of bubbles and presses it to her face. “I’m Bubblebeard!” Bubbles fly away from her mouth as she speaks, leaving a tiny hole in the full beard she’s made for herself.

Beau splashes her, laughing, and Jester splashes back. She has bubbles in her hair now, and everything smells like orange and cinnamon, and she still wants to pull Jester into her lap and kiss her, but she doesn’t. She sits back and tries, instead, to trace patterns in the bubbles in front of her face while she watches Jester out of the corner of her eye.

“So… got anything planned?”

“Ah, well. I thought we could do this, and maybe I could try to do a massage, although I’m not _super_ sure how that works. But first, I wanna wash your hair.”

“Oh.” Beau thinks, briefly, that she might swallow her tongue. “Yeah, okay. I’ll do yours after.”

She holds her nose and dunks herself under the water, eyes closed, and stays there until for a few seconds too long before coming up and brushing water out of her eyes. Jester giggles and draws her over, stroking at her shoulders before smoothing her hair back. Beau melts against her as she works the soap Caduceus makes into the long part of her hair and rubs her fingers over the fuzz growing in on her undercut.

“It’s so _soft_ ,” Jester sighs. “Okay, close your eyes, I gotta rinse.”

She does, but she could have gotten away with leaving them open with how carefully Jester pours water over her hair. From this angle, Jester can’t see her blink away the prickle in her eyes.

She’s never going to be able to smell oranges or cinnamon again without thinking about this. And she doesn’t think she wants to.

**4.**

With Traveler Con on the horizon and a whole day to spend at the Lavish Chateau, Beau expects to find Jester pinging off the walls. But after the first hour of catching up with Marion, she vanishes. Beau waves off the others and goes in search of her.

Jester isn’t hard to find. She sits on her bed in her old room with her knees drawn up to her chest, her skirt tucked under her, and her tail curled around her feet as she sniffles quietly.

Quietly, Beau knocks on the doorjamb.

Immediately, Jester quiets herself, swiping at her cheeks as she looks up and forces a smile. “Oh. Hi, Beau.”

“Hey… can I come in?”

“Sure.”

Beau approaches slowly and settles onto the foot of the bed, cross-legged. The blanket beneath her is soft in the way that only comes from age, and a delicate pink that’s so _Jester_ it almost makes her smile. The walls are murals in her style, too, castles and fairies and dragons, some silly or lewd, but all intricately detailed. She can’t help but picture Jester spending hours in here, touching up the designs when she has nothing else to do, and for a moment, Beau is so _angry_ she can’t speak. She swallows it, because that’s not what Jester needs right now, and offers her hand. Jester takes it.

“...So,” Beau asks after another moment, “what’s wrong?”

“Oh… I mean, it’s not a big deal, really. I just, um.” Jester sighs. “I talked to momma earlier.” She pauses, and Beau hums quietly and gives her hand a squeeze. “I asked if she’d heard from dad, you know? Because it’s been a little while, and I was… you know. I told him how much she missed him… And I thought he might have sent her a messenger or a Sending or a present, but it’s been a little while, and she says he _hasn’t_ and. And. And I just want them to be _happy_ , you know?”

By the end of it, Jester’s words come so quickly that Beau can barely understand her. She stops and hauls in a few breaths, blue cheeks flushed purple, her eyes shining.

“Jes…” Beau sighs.

“I just don’t get it! I told him she misses him, and that she still loves him, and she wants to see him again. And he still loves her, and he misses her, and he has people who can do magic, and he has people who can carry a _letter_. It’s not that he _can’t_ get word to her, so why _isn’t_ he? Doesn’t— I just— I want them to be happy.”

“Oh, boy.” Beau holds out her arms, and Jester all but falls into them, tucking her face into the crook of Beau’s neck and wrapping both arms around her. She rubs Jester’s back slowly and tries to find the words to not fuck this up. “…Sometimes… I mean, do you think he’d make your mom happy if he came back?”

“Of course!”

She winces. “But… They’re not the same people they used to be. And he’s a crime lord and he… he _sold people_ , Jester. Maybe it’s better if the two of them get closure?”

“No!” She shoves away, eyes shining. “No, Beau, they love each other.”

“Maybe! Maybe they do, but… What if your mother met, I don’t know, a really great artist. And _they_ fell in love, and they were fun and _kind,_ and they made her laugh and feel safe. Or… I know you want them to get back together. I know. But there are other happy endings out there.”

Jester stares back at her, lower lip quivering and tears rolling down her cheeks. “But…”

“Your mom loves you _so much_.” Beau tries. “But you’re both… stuck right now. Maybe we can help her be not stuck?”

“That’s what I’m _trying_ to do,” Jester replies. She wipes a tear off her chin with the back of one hand. “I just…”

Beau digs in her pockets for a handkerchief. The one she finds has clearly been there for a while, but it’s better than nothing. She holds it out, and Jester takes it and loudly blows her nose into it.

“Thanks.” She drops it onto the floor with yesterdays’ socks to be washed before they leave.

“No problem. Jester… I just think there are better ways to help her than hooking her up with someone, you know? Especially someone who wasn’t there for her for so long. If he hasn’t said anything, maybe he just doesn’t deserve her time. Your mom is pretty cool.”

Jester gives her a watery smile. “Yeah, she is… Thanks. I still… I don’t know. I wish they would talk.”

“I get it.” Beau sighs. “Do you want a hug?”

Jester nods and Beau wraps her up in her arms again. They end up lying in Jester’s bed, heads on her pillow, the softly worn blanket tucked around them. Beau keeps rubbing circles on Jester’s back while her breathing turns even and deep, slowing gradually until it becomes the softest of snores.

Beau swallows the lump in her throat and kisses the top of Jester’s head. Then she closes her eyes and does her best to fall asleep.

They can sort out the rest of this mess in the morning.

**+**

There’s something about the Balleater that makes talking about shit easier. Or, that’s what Beau chooses to tell herself when she goes and finds Fjord late one night on their way home. They could have teleported, but they all needed the vacation, especially after… _everything_. So she grabs a bottle of whiskey from the galley and makes her way to where Fjord sits on a crate, staring out at the ocean and polishing the Star Razor.

Beau uncorks the bottle and drops down next to him with a groan. “I’ve got it really bad for Jester.”

“Congratulations.” Fjord looks over at her without bothering to hide his smile. “You noticed? Even I noticed. Is it a bad thing?”

“No. Yes? No. I love it. I— _oh, Gods_. I really, really love her.” She takes a swig. The whiskey is very, very mediocre, but it’s better than nothing. “We talk about things, and we have fun together, and I like being around her…”

Fjord waits a moment. When she stays silent, he beckons, frowning. “Okay…?”

“We haven’t had sex.”

Without a word, he reaches over and takes the bottle from her hands. Then he knocks back a long swallow before handing it over. “Are you sure you want to talk to me about this? And not, I don’t know, Yasha?”

“You know people, though. You’re my captain! Help me out here.”

He lets out a strained laugh. “I’m going to need another drink.”

“Sure.” Beau takes a swig and then passes the bottle back to him. “So, like. It’s fine. We can take our time. Kissing her is _great_. But.” She scrubs her hands over her face. “But… I just… I keep thinking that, you know, if we do— when, because, I mean, she seems interested? I know I’m interested. I keep thinking that maybe we’ll ruin things.”

“Wow.”

“I _know_.”

Fjord passes the bottle of whiskey back. “So, you know that’s bullshit, right?” When she only stares at him, he sighs. “Oh, boy. Ah, well… I think that you two have something… real. Something really good. Would you stop talking to her and having fun with her if you two…” He starts to gesture, then grimaces and drops both hands back to his lap.

“No…” She grumbles and smacks him in the shoulder anyway.

“Ow.”

“Suck it up.” She does give him back the whiskey. “I just… I’ve never had someone I cared about _that much_. Who was going to stay.”

“I know.” He has a funny look on his face, but she doesn’t push. She can ask about it some other time. “Look, I think you’re going to be fine. You don’t _have_ to… you know. Just wait until we’re off the ship, maybe. Close quarters.”

“You’re an asshole.” Beau smiles into the neck of the bottle as she knocks back another swallow. “…Thanks.”

“No problem.” He slings an arm around Beau’s shoulders as she sets the bottle between her feet and slumps against his side. “You’ve got this.” He doesn’t ruffle her hair, which she lets him know she appreciates by not smacking his arm again.

“...I’m not sure how helpful I’ll be,” she comments, “but, like, if you ever want to talk about shit like this happening with you, I’m right here. Mostly because trying to make you go to Caleb would just be… such an asshole move.”

“Me? What?” Fjord wheezes quietly. “Pass me that whiskey?”

**5.**

Beau did not plan to spend their afternoon of privacy kissing Jester, but then, she can’t think of a better use of the time. Jester smells of oranges and cinnamon, just like she always does when they’re at home, and her mouth is soft and warm, and Beau wants to stay here forever. She keeps her eyes closed and holds Jester close, one hand in her hair and the other resting on her hip. Jester rests against her, most of her weight on her elbows and knees. It’s the kind of slow makeout session that could last for hours.

Or, it is until Beau nips at Jester’s lower lip, and she lets out the most beautiful moan she’s ever heard.

“ _Oh_ ,” Beau breathes, turning her head away as she tries to catch her breath.

“Was that—?”

“It was _so_ okay. God, Jes.” Beau kisses her again. “That was _hot_.”

When she draws back again, Jester stares at her wide-eyed, a violet flush rising on her cheeks. “Oh.”

“…We don’t have to. I mean. I want…” Beau’s tongue feels thick and heavy in her mouth, and she swallows convulsively. “You’re _so_ — I want you. But I don’t want to rush you.”

Jester smiles. Then, tenderly, she kisses Beau on the mouth, cupping her face between both hands. “I would… really love to. Um… I don’t know what I’m doing, exactly?”

“I can show you,” Beau blurts. “Let’s— here, just keep kissing me.”

Jester does, leaning in so they press chest to chest. She straddles Beau’s thigh and grinds down much more tentatively than Beau had expected. Beau cups Jester’s ass with both hands and guides her hips in a slow roll, tensing her thigh. It draws another moan from her, high and shaky. She grinds down again, and then again, leaning down to catch Beau’s mouth. They kiss, and Beau’s heart pounds.

“We should get undressed,” Jester whispers.

They’re so close that her breath tickles Beau’s lips, and Beau has to lean up for another kiss, a whine rising from the back of her throat. With trembling fingers, she tugs at the laces of Jester’s sleeves. They come undone, leaving the dress’s neck to slump and reveal the top of her breastband. It’s pink, and there are freckles on the tops of Jester’s breasts, and even though Beau has seen it all before, her mouth goes dry.

“Beau…” Jester takes her hands, squeezing them gently. “Beau, are you okay?”

“Uh-huh. You?”

She smiles. “A little nervous.”

“Yeah…” Beau kisses her again. “Me too. Here, let’s—”

They get Jester’s dress over her head. And Gods, Beau is so glad they’re not out and about right now because it means she doesn’t have to work through armor first, and it means that Jester didn’t bother with her leggings, so she can run her hands up the smooth skin of Jester’s thighs to the bottom of her pink shorts and skim her fingers along them.

Jester shifts on top of her, worrying at her lower lip with her teeth. “You should undress, too.”

Beau nods, and her hands and Jester’s get tangled at the bottom of her shirt. She leaves it to Jester and reaches for her pants instead, shoving them off of her hips. Then she raises her arms for Jester. A few strands of her hair fall into her face, and Jester brushes them away before leaning in for another kiss. Her hands smooth down Beau’s chest. Her breastband is blue and laced tightly over what little chest she has. Carefully, Jester undoes the laces. Beau groans when it comes off and then _whimpers_ as Jester massages her breasts with both hands.

Jester catches her face as she goes to hide it against her upper arm. “Please?”

Beau’s heart hammers, but she nods anyway and turns her head to kiss Jester’s palm. “Okay. Let me get yours.”

Jester leans back, and Beau sits up. She has Jester’s breastband off a moment later. All of her is curves and softness, her breasts heavy in Beau’s hands. Beau massages one and leans down to catch the other nipple in her mouth. Jester gasps and tugs at her hair and then _squeaks_ at the sting of teeth. Her hands tighten in Beau’s hair as if Beau ever had any intention of stopping. She plays with Jester’s nipples, kissing and biting until they stiffen and peak and Jester rocks her hips against empty air. Then she presses Beau flat on her back, kissing her hungrily.

“Tell me how to make you feel good?” Jester whispers.

The brush of lips at her ear makes Beau shiver. “Kiss me.” And then, “My neck? And—” Jester wanders from Beau’s ear to her mouth to beneath her jaw, and then down her neck. She sucks, worrying a red mark, and Beau lets out a breathless groan. “Oh, fuck, yes.”

Beau barely speaks louder than a whisper, but from the look on Jester’s face, you’d think she was screaming her name. A flush rides high on her cheeks and spreads over her chest, hiding her freckles. Jester works her way down, biting at Beau’s collarbones and her breasts and mouthing at her nipples without much finesse but with so much curiosity and so much open desire that Beau can’t help but arch into it, lower lip caught between her teeth. She keeps going, too, until she reaches the waist of Beau’s underwear. Then she pauses and looks up, a furrow etched between her eyebrows.

“Um…?”

“Come up here. I’ve just been on my back the whole time.” Beau beckons to her. “Let me touch you, too.”

Jester _blushes_ , then, a visible shiver running through her. She unties the little bow above her tail and then pushes her shorts down. Beau holds her steady while she slips out of them. She wants to say romantic things, and she wants to make Jester come until she can’t remember her own name, and she wants to run because Jester’s gaze feels like being cracked open.

Instead, Beau draws her up toward her face with both hands on her thighs, tongue sweeping across her lower lip. “Could I—”

“ _Yes_ ,” Jester squeaks, and then, “Yeah, please.”

She settles carefully, knees to either side of Beau’s head, her hands braced on the headboard. But she holds herself just a little too high, a little too tense, and Beau sighs. Gently, she peppers kisses over the insides of Jester’s thighs. And little by little, Jester relaxes, sighs, moans. She squirms as Beau works her way up, making high, pleading sounds in the back of her throat.

Jester whines as Beau drags one finger between her labia and up to her clit. She’s soaked and flushed and fucking beautiful, and Beau has to swallow against a knot in her throat. Then she leans in, spreading Jester open with two fingers, and licks a long stripe along the same path she’d traced with her finger. Above her, Jester squeaks. Kissing her clit makes her sigh, and she pants as Beau circles and circles it with the tip of her tongue. Then she wanders down, gathering wet on her tongue. She wants that taste seared into her memory, right alongside the way Jester clutches at her hair and moans as Beau fucks her with her tongue. She worms a hand up to tease her with a finger, and Jester’s hips roll.

“ _Beau_ ,” she cries, and, “ _oh_ yes—” and then a wordless wail as Beau crooks her fingers and rubs up _behind_ her clit at the same time she rubs it with her tongue from the outside and Jester _wails_.

Beau keeps massaging, keeps sucking at Jester’s clit, until she feels Jester quiver and tense, and then past that through the waves of her orgasm. Jester’s a screamer, and she’s screaming _Beau’s_ name as she rocks her hips and drips hot and wet down Beau’s wrist.

“Fuck,” Beau pants, turning her face toward Jester’s thigh. “ _Fuck_ , you’re— do you want another one?” Her clit is throbbing, but Beau just presses her thighs together.

“ _Uh-huh_ ,” Jester spreads her legs a little farther, and Gods, if that isn’t the best invitation Beau’s ever _seen_.

She dives back in, ignoring the slight ache in her jaw—she’s out of practice, apparently, needs to get her stamina back—and the wet on her thighs. Mostly. Her free hand snakes down her body, and she grinds against the heel of her hand, muffling her moans against Jester’s cunt. The second orgasm takes almost no time at all. Jester’s sensitive, apparently, and more so from the last one. She’s just as loud as she was the last time, wailing as she rides Beau’s face and her fingers until the aftershocks pass.

Beau gets both hands back to her hips to help her down. For a moment, they lie there, ankles interlocked, Jester’s fingers running through Beau’s hair, their foreheads pressed together. Then she looks down and bites at her lower lip. “Could I…?”

“Yeah, fuck,” Beau lets Jester tip her onto her back and opens her legs. “I’ll, uh. Gimme your hand, and I’ll show you.”

Even though it was _her_ idea, it still knocks the breath out of her when Jester laces their fingers together. Beau starts to kiss her and hesitates, and Jester chases her, gasping softly at the taste on her tongue. Still kissing her, Beau guides Jester’s hand down. She has to squirm to reposition herself, knee folded up and drawn back to her chest to give Jester room to work, but that’s fine.

“Here,” she gasps, “And—you can just go to town, honestly.”

“Okay,” Jester kisses her again and then moves Beau’s hand back to her shin. “I can do this.”

“Or that,” Beau agrees. “Take your time.”

She wants to come ten minutes ago, but the look on Jester’s face is just too good.

Jester keeps kissing her. It’s maybe the only thing that keeps Beau sane, at first, with how slowly she goes. Jester’s clever fingers wander over every part of her, up and down from her clit, teasing inside her, skimming over her labia and almost out to her thighs before Beau’s hips hitch and roll. A whine breaks from her that makes her flush and try to hide against Jester’s shoulder. She gets another kiss instead, tongue moving against hers in time with the rub of Jester’s fingers just below her clit. Beau rocks her hips with it, and Jester takes the hint. Her fingers go around and around and around until Beau’s thighs tense and tremble.

“Is this good?” Jester whispers.

Beau reaches up and tangles her fingers in Jester’s hair by way of answer, her whole body arching toward her.

It’s not the _strongest_ orgasm she’s ever had, but it leaves her shaking and gasping, tingling all the way to the roots of her hair as she slowly breaks the kiss. Jester presses another one to the end of her nose before drawing her hand away. She sucks her fingers clean, and the sight makes Beau _whine_.

“Want another?” Jester asks brightly, a mischievous smile spreading across her kiss-swollen lips.

“Come here,” Beau breathes, and tugs Jester back into her arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes vulnerability is good, actually.
> 
> The author thrives on comments! 💖🧡💖


End file.
